An Influential Meeting
by harvest.moon.freak98
Summary: No one on omegle would rp with me so I said, "FUCK IT! FUCK THIS! I'M WRITING A FANFICTION!"
1. Meet Sherlock

**Chapter One**

Sherlock Holmes (8) lazed on his bed, reading a chemistry textbook. No one wanted him. No one even came _close_ to wanting him. He had come to the orphanage about three years ago, and had been picked on by the kids and beaten by the orphanage owner ever since. Mycroft, his elder brother by about eight years, had promised him that he wouldn't leave his side, despite the fact that _everyone_ wanted to adopt him. Well, that promise had been broken about eighty-six days, fifteen hours, and thirty-seven minutes ago.

Sherlock wasn't an ordinary child, although he tried to make it look that way. What had gotten him in the most trouble was when he would 'read' people, as everyone liked to call it. He would simply observe the person's appearance and deduce things from it. He wasn't by any means perfect, even he himself knew that, but the more he practiced the better he got. And who better to practice on then the people who refused to adopt him, and who he would likely never see again? London was a big place, and the chances that he would cross paths with them again, or that they would even remember him were very, very slim.

Anything he had was stolen. Books, money, clothes, food, _everything_. He didn't really eat much anyway, which was fortunate since the older kids always took the food the orphanage supplied him with. He also hardly ever slept… he wasn't sure why, he was just born that way. He remembered his parents being concerned, and taking him to a doctor… that's how their car ended up in the path of an out-of-control truck.

"Sherlock?" The boy looked up when he heard the soft, familiar voice of the orphanage's cook. She had always been kind to him, and she was probably the only one in the whole place that he hadn't deduced to tears yet. Well… except the orphanage owner, Scott Dallas.

She didn't need to say anything else. Sherlock knew what was going on. Someone was here, looking to adopt a little boy… again. He got up and walked into the playroom, where the other young boys were (just as he thought….), and sat in the corner before continuing his reading.

Luckily the couple who came in (God bless the child who gets adopted by those druggies) didn't notice him, and walked right by. Afterwards, Sherlock let himself be herded into the dining hall with the rest of the kids. As usual his food was taken from him almost immediately, and repaid with a punch in the arm and a few muttered insults.

He sat quietly, looking around at all the children. Idiots. All of them. Maybe he could run away…. The police would never find him. Mycroft on the other hand…. Mycroft would be able to track him down no problem, so that was off the list.

After everyone was given permission to leave, Sherlock promptly snuck past the kitchen and out the back door, plunking down against the brick wall and staring out at the busy street in front of him. There was a stack of firewood to his right, and a tall wire fence in front. He could climb over the fence in a flash, he had already done it a few times… but if he went for a walk and someone found out, he would be punished severely.

Sherlock pondered his situation. Mycroft's new parents bluntly refused to adopt him, so there was no chance of Mycroft coming back for him… he couldn't run away… so he'd just have to behave properly, shut his mouth, and pray that some half-decent couple would find some kindness in their hearts to adopt a freak like him.

His stomach gave a small growl. Great. This _had_ to be the day that he got hungry. Sherlock chewed on his lip in thought before making a decision. He stood and quickly climbed the fence.

Not too long later he was dashing as fast as his legs would carry him down the damp backstreets of London. He finally managed to shake off the person that had been chasing him, and scaled the fence to the orphanage again. Sitting down in the same place as before, he nibbled on the small loaf of bread that he had just acquired. That was close. _Too_ close. It'll probably be easier to steal from Tesco next time. Sherlock knew that he wouldn't have to worry about that for at least a week, but such thoughts floated through his head anyway. You can never be too prepared, right?


	2. Meet The Doctor

**Chapter 2**

Days off were rare for The Doctor. Running here, running there, saving the world, rush, rush, rush. It was an uncommon pleasure to be able to just take things slowly and relax a bit. Nope. This was boring. But luckily, excitement had tracked him down again.

Someone yelled out "Thief!" just as a little boy rushed past him. It was almost an automatic reaction when The Doctor ran after him. The boy was quite fast, and must've known the area inside-out and backwards, but The Doctor didn't give up. He made it look like he had fallen behind, and followed the boy until he saw him climb over a fence. What was this? He walked back around to the front of the building. Oh... an orphanage.

The Doctor smiled softly and went inside, met by a friendly smile from the lady at the front counter.

"Good afternoon." She greeted. "Can I help you?"

"Yes, can I… well, I'm looking for a particular little boy." He replied, looking around briefly.

The lady smiled and nodded, starting to type into her computer. "And… what's his name?"

"I don't know exactly."

"A description, then?"

"He looks to be about seven, and very dark, very curly hair… thin as a twig." He said thoughtfully.

The lady's face lit up. "Oh! You must mean Sherlock."

"Sherlock…" The Doctor hummed. The name sounded very familiar… oooh… it was right on the tip of his brain. "Yes, could I see him please?" Seeing a face would help with the name.

She nodded and stood. "Right this way." She led The Doctor down the halls until they came to the playroom, where the children were bustling about cheerfully. She scanned the crowd, a small frown forming in the corner of her lips.

"Timothy." She said, stopping one of the older boys. "Have you seen Sherlock?"

The boy smirked. "Yeah, Miss. He snuck out back after lunch."

The lady sighed, shaking her head. "I'll get him. Could you inform Mr. Dallas please, Timothy?"

"Of course, Miss." He grinned almost evilly, and walked away.

The Doctor waited among the children as the lady went and fetched Sherlock. "There's someone here to see you." She said softly.


	3. First Impressions

**Chapter 3**

Sherlock hid the panic from his face when he saw the man. How could he have found him? What was he going to do?

The lady seemed a little confused at Sherlock's lack of enthusiasm. "Well… I assume you'd like to talk to him alone?" She asked.

The Doctor nodded. "Yes, that would be lovely, thanks." He smiled genuinely.

Sherlock was brought into one of the small rooms where kids would meet/talk to their potential adoptive parents. He sat down on one side of the table, but much to his surprise the man sat next to him instead of across from him like everyone else would.

"So…" The Doctor said, clasping his hands together. "What's your name?"

"Sherlock Holmes." Sherlock muttered almost inaudibly.

The Doctor's face lit up in excitement as the name clicked in his head. "_The_ Sherlock Holmes?"

Confused, Sherlock looked the man over with a frown, eyes stopping on his chest. Did he have… _two_ heartbeats? That isn't possible. That isn't _physically_ possible.

The Doctor grinned at the boy. "Something wrong?"

Sherlock blinked, looking up at his face again. "Um… n-no… it's just… you… I can't…." He seemed really and truly confused. This wasn't a dream…. he never had dreams. He rarely ever slept for that matter….

The Doctor chuckled, taking Sherlock's hand gently and placing it against his chest, so that Sherlock could faintly fell both hearts beating steadily. "No, you're right. Two hearts." He smiled.

Sherlock looked him over again. Everything else seemed normal… except the strange vegetation that was clinging to the hem of his jacket and trousers.

"Are you an alien?" He asked.

The Doctor tilted his head. "Well yes, I suppose I am."

Sherlock's eyes widened, a sudden look of dread crossing his face. He stood abruptly, backing away slightly. "Why are you here?"

The Doctor smirked. This could be fun. "Isn't it obvious?" He asked. "I'm here to take over the world!" He gave his very best evil laugh while making a classic evil villain pose.

Sherlock relaxed slightly when he saw the playful gleam in the man's eyes, and sat back down.

The Doctor broke into a wide grin.

"Are… are you here to adopt me, then?" Sherlock asked hopefully.

"No. I'm afraid I can't." He said gently. "Also… I'd like you to tell me why you stole from someone."

Sherlock bit his lip, looking at the floor. "I… I was hungry…"

"Don't they give you food here?"

"Yes… but I don't eat it?"

"Why not?"

Sherlock just shrugged. "I don't get a chance."

The Doctor nodded understandingly. "I see… and you don't think there's any other way to fix the problem?"

"Mr. Dallas doesn't care." He mumbled in reply. "He probably _wishes_ I would starve to death."

"That can't be true."

Sherlock laughed dryly. "You haven't met him, have you?"


	4. The Truth Laid Bare

**Chapter 4**

Angry footsteps could be heard coming down the hallway.

Sherlock swallowed hard, slumping back into his seat. "Please don't tell him about this." He pleaded in a quiet voice.

The Doctor frowned slightly. "Sherlock, I can't-"

A man who looked to be in his fifties burst into the room, rage written in every nook and cranny of his currently calm expression. "Me I spake with Sherl'ck a moment?" He asked with a Scottish accent. He was about average height, but chubby with a round face, large nose, and square shoulders that matched his square glasses. His was rather plump like the rest of him, and his eyebrows were so thin that they were barely visible against his dark green eyes. He was clean shaven and though the hair on his head was scarce, it was still a vivid strawberry blonde, but the way he had it combed over made him look utterly ridiculous.

Sherlock's body tensed as he waited for The Doctor to answer.

The Doctor tried not to show his obvious distaste for this man, and after a minute answered, "Yes, of course. I'll just be leaving, then." He stood and gave Sherlock one last smile before heading for the door.

Sherlock dashed forward, grabbing The Doctor's sleeve and tugging slightly.

The Doctor squatted down so that he was at eye level with the boy.

"Please don't leave." Sherlock begged in a whisper. "Mr. Dallas hates me."

"I'll be right outside the whole time." The Doctor assured him.

Sherlock nodded and let go of his sleeve, proceeding to sit down at the table again.

The Doctor left the room and stood in the hallway, regretting it the moment he heard Scott Dallas' voice raise to a scream. How could anyone in this place just ignore it like that? Did that mean it was a regular occurrence? A few yelps of pain were heard from Sherlock, which was more than enough to make The Doctor rush back into the room.

Sherlock was backed up against the wall, one arm raised in defense, and the other around his rib cage.

Dallas spun around, glaring at The Doctor angrily. "You may leave." He snapped.

"No, I don't think I should." The Doctor replied, an irritated tone in his voice as he walked forward.

"I'm only givin' 'm what 'e deserves."

"No one deserves to be harmed like this." He snapped. "Not bullies, nor criminals, and certainly not children no matter what they've done. It's torture." The Doctor lifted Sherlock in his arms, a small whimper escaping the boy's lips. "And I suppose you do this to the rest of them as well, am I right?"

Dallas snarled at him. "Just this useless git."

The Doctor frowned. Killing him was a no. He also couldn't report this to the authorities… the orphanage might be shut down… then what would happen to the rest of the children? Well, he certainly wasn't going to just stand around and do nothing! "I'm bringing Sherlock with me." He said finally.

Dallas snorted. "Go on, then! Take 'im off me hands!"

A/N

Okay so I found out about these coolio things called 'Author's notes' and since I'm the author I have some things to say. First off, I don't own anything (Unfortunately). Second, I'm aiming for daily/bi-daily chapters, but they'll be short. Thirdly, fan art is on the way. Have a good day!


	5. Unbelievable Facts

**A/N:**

Sorry, no updates over the weekends... I honestly done have a single functional computer at my house. I have wi-fi... but no computers or phones... only my dsi (Which can't do shit except check emails.)

Short chapter thing time :'( sorrysorrysorry.

Anyway, reviews are very much appreciated, and also share the story with others :) Have a nice day!

**Chapter 5**

What the hell had he gotten himself into? He had _adopted_ a _child_. He couldn't take a child with him! Then again, Sherlock wasn't an ordinary child… maybe he could take care of himself? Or stay in the TARDIS?

"Um… Mister?" Sherlock looked up at The Doctor, blushing slightly as they walked through London. "I… I never caught your name…"

The Doctor laughed. "Well, that might be a problem." He stopped, holding out his hand. "I'm The Doctor."

Sherlock shook his hand lightly, and tilted his head. "Doctor Who?"

"Just The Doctor." He replied, starting to walk again.

Sherlock looked him over. He didn't at all look like a medical doctor… or a doctor of law. "Oh… alright then, um… Doctor. Where are you from?"

The Doctor was silent for a few minutes. "Far, far away from here."

Sherlock nodded. "I guess I wouldn't know where it is anyway…"

"Probably not." He chuckled, ruffling the boy's hair. "Now… I suppose if you're going to be staying with me for a long period of time, there are some things I should tell you. If it gets a bit overwhelming, just tell me okay?"

Sherlock nodded in agreement.

"Good. As you know I'm an 'alien' as people so crudely put it. My TARDIS, that's the name of my ship, can travel through time and space, and for unknown reasons is stuck in the shape of a police box. My sonic screwdriver-" He pulled it out of his jacket pocket, buzzing it a few times. "can work absolute wonders with technology when I'm in a jam. Always mind your eyes though. I am constantly saving the world, we will almost always be in danger, and I may require your assistance from time to time."

Sherlock smiled a little. "I'll be fine. And I think I might even be able to help you a little... people say I'm good at 'reading' other people."

"So I've heard." The Doctor winked. "Any help is appreciated."

Sherlock grinned. "I'll do my best."


	6. Adjusting

A/N: Exams are coming up and all my classes are moving at an extremely past pace…. Updates will be shorter and/or further apart until all this madness ends :( sorry!

Also, I accidentally named chapter 5 'adjusting' instead of chapter six, so I'll fix that ASAP and give chapter 5 it's proper name ;)

**Chapter 6**

Sherlock had a hard time wrapping his head around everything. The fact that he had just been adopted, the TARDIS, The Doctor... Especially The Doctor. He clung to the railings as the TARDIS started moving.

"Where do you want to go?" The Doctor asked excitedly. "Past? Future?"

"Are those the only options?" Sherlock joked.

The Doctor tilted his head. "Well, we could stay here a bit if you'd like."

"No." He said quickly. "No, I... I don't ever want to come back here again." After a minute of thought he decided, "Past."

The Doctor nodded slowly. "How far?"

Sherlock hummed. "Um... ancient Greece?"

The Doctor grinned and began running around the control panel, pressing buttons and pulling levers.

The TARDIS lurched, and Sherlock nearly fell over.

"Hang on." The Doctor said in a rush.

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "Yeah, okay." The 'thanks for warning me' was implied.

After a few minutes the TARDIS came to an abrupt stop, and The Doctor spun around, a wide smile on his face. "Take a look."

Sherlock slowly walked to the door and peeked out, eyes widening. "Wow..." He walked out onto a bust street, people bustling about as they bought things from small market stands.

It was rather loud, and everyone who was selling something seemed to be trying to grab his attention. A lot of people were giving him funny looks... probably because of his clothes. Sherlock turned back to The Doctor. "Are you coming?"

He nodded and slipped on his jacket, running out to him. "Where to first?"

Sherlock looked around. "Um... The Parthenon?"

The Doctor's face lit up. "Oh, yes perfect! Let's go!" He sped off into the crowd, and Sherlock had to run to keep up.


End file.
